I like museums, especially the old-fashioned kind, the ones without too many buttons to push. The National Maritime Museum in Falmouth is modern without being too patronising.
This poster shows the beautiful winding estuary of the River Fal. The port of Falmouth, at its mouth, is the third deepest harbour in the world. It has been, and still is, immensely important for defence, international shipping and as a starting pointing for many record-breaking voyages.
The museum's current exhibition concerns lighthouses and their keepers.
In the ground floor main hall, boats are suspended from the high ceiling. You can walk beneath them, noting their construction, or move to the next level to see inside.
The older boats have been carefully restored with ropes and tools and bailing-out equipment in place. The flag is a Red Ensign, created for the Royal Navy in the 17th Century and flown these days by the British Merchant Navy.
These are coracles, those intriguing little vessels used for many centuries in Wales and other Celtic parts of the British Isles. They are light enough to be carried on a man's back or shoulder, as the picture behind them shows.
The museum has its own open workshop, equipped with the latest tools, as well as exhibits of very old ones. At present, the White Owl, built in Falmouth in 1902, is being restored. A blackboard, regularly updated, shows progress reports and explications of methods used by expert local boat builders.
A small but important exhibition within the museum tells of the Endurance Expedition undertaken by Ernest Shackleton in 1914. It's easy to imagine the horrible discomfort of being trapped in the ice near the South Pole for so long.
This replica of Shackleton's string vest shows how crude their protective clothing was 100 years ago.
My Dad wore string vests but, though unattractive to us as children, they were a lot more sophisticated than this one. Does anyone wear a string vest these days or were they an idea which faded out around 1970?
As the Endurance was sinking into the ice, Shackleton insisted that this banjo, signed by the crew, should be saved. He called it 'vital mental medicine' - and he was right. It kept the men cheerful for many hours in the Polar night.
The On the Rocks exhibition showed examples of families living far out to sea. Keepers guarded the coast by maintaining the huge mirrored lamps which flashed ceaselessly over the waters. These children grew up on the Hartland lighthouse in the 1930s. Fred even had a windswept garden on the leeside.
We took the lift to the museum's top storey and looked down (through the rain) at the recently improved quayside.
Looking through binoculars provided for viewing the estuary, we could see tiny figures of seamen moving around the Argus, a naval support vessel from Belfast. She is flying the Royal Fleet Auxiliary Ensign.
The lift took us to the underwater level where markers show how far and how deep the tide has come. I've been here before at High Tide when the viewing hall becomes scarily murky. I much prefer ground level.
Clouds were moving swiftly as we left Discovery Quay at dusk. More rain on the way, I fear.
